💥 Killer Frequency - Oneshots

🍭- Forrest Nash x Roller Ricky

Summary:
It's the evening of the festival, and after the morning Forrest had, the only thing on his mind is taking up Ricky's free roller-skating offer, little does he know, he'll be receiving private lessons.

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"You know. I hope she'll be happy when I'm brutally murdered by The Whistling Man." Forrest grumbles, complaining out-loud to himself, rather than to anyone in particular as he begrudgingly made his extremely hesitant way out of the radio stations, for some reason, previously locked fire exit. His shoulders are hanging low as he slouches, his posture perfectly describing his 'very-positive' mood about heading outside.

As he walked down the small number of concrete stairs, where a large fraction of employees probably took their smoke breaks. He continued his completely necessary rant to himself. "Out here. In the open. All by myself." He groaned, finding the fact that Peggy, the one who had thrown the record out the window, wasn't the one outside looking for it.

Having to go and do someone else's dirty work was one thing, but to have to do it when a bothered and blood-craving serial killer was wandering town? That set Forrest on a completely different playing field of pissed off.

He knew he shouldn't have been outside at that moment, at that time of night. But with Dawn's mysterious message and continuous pleading, he had practically no other choice but to go and retrieve the musical disc from wherever it had fallen.

After walking for barely a moment through the dark alley, he quickly took a speedy turn to his left. But he was quick to pause and freeze in his tracks before retracing his steps as fast as his feet would possibly let him. He knew full well that there was something suspicious about him being drawn out of the safety of his studio.

An involuntary and heavy breath left his mouth as he leaned against one of the brick walls. His fight or flight responses weren't what was acting up, instead he stood there, frozen in fear as he panted like a wounded dog. A lump formed in his throat, and no matter how much he swallowed and swallowed it wouldn't go down.

Forrest had only received a quick glance, and despite never seeing the so-called 'Whistling Man' before hand, he knew that he had come eye to eye with his culprit. In those full seconds, his entire body tensed up as his eyes transfixed on the subject in horror, unable to look away before his feet dragged him behind and against the wall.

His tired eyes had transformed into wide circles as he waited for his heart to slow itself down. The man had been at the opposite end of the alley, at the other side of a webbed metal fence. Just spotting him was enough to send panic flooding towards Forrest's gut.

Once he had breathed, again, and again. Forrest finally seemed to have calmed down enough to make a second attempt at his journey. Nervously, he moistened his beyond dry lips as they remained pressed together in silent terror. His jaw had gone tense to prevent a scream or any alerting noise from being let out, and so he walked around the corner gritting his teeth nervously.

And it was safe to say he was much happier to notice that The Whistling Man, had walked on. He exhaled through his mouth, heaving a sigh of relief large enough to empty out his lungs. "Fucking hell.. after this, I better be getting a raise of sorts from Reggie or I swear.." He scoffed, fidgeting with his fingers as he cracked his knuckles.

Finally, Forrest arrived at the end of the alley that he dreaded, just at the other side of the fence, The Whistling Man could still be lurking. His eyebrows raise as he spots what he came out for, "Here it is..." He rejoiced gently, smiling to himself as he wiped the metaphorical sweat from his temple. "Long Ride Home." Forrest grinned, holding the sealed record tightly in his palm. It was safe to say he wouldn't be allowing Peggy near this one for a while.